This historic book may have numerous typos, missing text or index. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. 1853. Not illustrated. Excerpt: ... rate family and home. 1, holding the money in my breast, and carrying the bundle, like a thief, under my arm, sped into the darkness to hasten our poor fugitive away. I found all exactly as I had left it, except that Sybil had exchanged part of her own wardrobe for some dresses of Marget's, scarcely less plain, but in taste and form widely different from hers. And Jamie's face had wakened up into eagerness and excitement; and my mother went about the house, seeking out little comforts which might be added to their bundle, and quietly wiping from her cheeks the tears which made no demonstration, yet would not be restrained. My father, too, strayed about like an uneasy spirit, breaking in upon our whispers with a voice which he could not change out of its natural tone; and now and then, solicitous, but ignorant, making some impossible suggestion, which brought an impatient word, instantly repented of, from my mother's lips. We had all the sad excitement which precedes a long parting, a perilous journey; and it was drearily heightened by the circumstances under which our travellers went away. They had gathered round the table in Jamie's room to the last meal we might ever partake of together. There was little said by any of us--faint attempts now and then, more pathetic than downright weeping, were made by Sibby and my mother to keep up the strange, happy, half-articulate communication with which mothers respond to the infant's claims upon their attention; and Sybil's baby bounded and leapt in the arms that held it, and stretched out its little hands to us with such an innocent exultation as made us turn to each other with blank faces, and filled our eyes with tears. Sometimes my father interposed some directions about the road, and where they might get the Berwick...